Damage Control, My Ass
by unirulert2
Summary: At McKinley High, bullying is a very common phenomenon. But when it goes out of spiral, out of hand, out of control, New Directions is there to take care of the situation. Just not in an ideal way.


Tina was making her way to the cafeteria. She was seriously late for her lunch, and it was all because of Ms. Stewart, an old lady who had her panties in a twist because she was single for who knows how long. She had been caught doodling Michael Robert Chang Jr. and Tina Cohen-Chang-Chang on the corner of her history notebook and had to spend 40 minutes in the classroom writing _I will not daydream about my hopeless-not-going-to-last-forever-relationship in class ever again_ on a blank piece of paper a hundred times. Seriously, get a life, woman!

Anyways, after yet another cherry-flavored slushie facial on her way to the cafeteria, she had to use extra 10 minutes to rub off the red stain out of her creme-colored blouse and now the hallways were eerily empty as she now had 10 minutes left for a quick bite. She considered skipping lunch, but she missed her breakfast today while trying to make last-minute fashion makeover of her outfit for the day and was starving. Besides, next period was glee, and an empty stomach doesn't sit well with Rachel's another _I'm perfect and you all need to be my perfect backups to make my already spine-tingling-performance up to the next level_ speech and she needed all the power she could muster to actually sing, if only for backup vocals.

She started up to a sprint when all of a sudden a familiar yet a bit unfamiliar red jacket of that stupid number nine slammed her into the lockers. Only it was the starting end of the hallway and her head hit the edge of the lockers. She sees stars and wait, is that red on her hands?

"Hey watch it slut! Just because a football player dates you and sucks your cunt doesn't mean you can dirty my way with your rotten yellow face, whore!" Tina felt a flush creep her cheeks. _How dare he speak of Mike that way_ she fumes and doesn't really reconsiders her snarky comeback.

"Oh yeah? My yellow face still looks better than your stupid hairstyle from the 1800s! Who cut for you, huh, your grandma?" And immediately regrets her choice of words, because frankly, it was kind of rude and second of all, the harsh impact of his hands painfully groping her breasts was not something she wanted as a consequence.

"I bet you like that, don't you, you motherfucker! Does your boyfriend of a freak do that to you too? I bet your cherries are already popped, yeah?" she frantically shakes her head sideways in fear. Her eyes filled with terrified tears as she clawed at his hands trying to stop him.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no. Please don't." His left hand firmly held her protesting hands in place and his right traveled down and groped her elsewhere, and that was seriously out of hand, even for some pathetic attempt at high school bullying. She thrashed under his touch, desperate to make him let her go, but he was an athlete and her vision was clouded with her tears and red.

Then, in whispered sounds, voices began to fill the hallways as he started to come to realize what he had done in a moment of fury. He quickly let go of her body, and she slacked against the lockers.

Voices and footsteps were now getting louder that even she could hear in her drowsy condition and she mustered up the last of her strength and stood up. She stumbled upon the closest bathroom she could find, and slammed into one of the stalls.

She was humiliated. She was broken. Still, she couldn't bring herself to let her become the topic of gossip. She usually freaked out over slightest of dirty things, but at the moment, she didn't give a shit and slumped down the floor of the bathroom door. She was quite sure her blood was all over the floor on her way here but as long as they didn't see her bleeding, she was fine. Or at least, for now.

She went through her bag for some tissues, as she would have to clean up for her next period, and a glistening reflection of her usual stack of scissors for emergency costume crisis caught her eyes.

 _Slut._

 _Whore._

 _At least Berry's got solos, what've you got?_

 _Worthless crap, what does Mike even sees in her?_

 _Does she even deserve to belong to glee club? She's got no talent!_

All the mean voices whispered in her ears. Her now fading white marks of her past misdoings were staring right back at her, encouraging her negative thoughts.

But Mike.

He had been so sad, so guilty struck when she first let her scars slip, which was actually near impossible since it was almost fading into her skin, and damn it, had it been not for her yellow skin, she would have been able to hide it from him, but no. She had a hard time convincing him that she won't do it ever again and that it was just a temporary thing in her pitiful past.

 _Can your eyes get any smaller?_

 _Can you actually see through that sorry excuse of an eye?_

 _You reek smell of Kimchi, you insufferable freak! Go back to your Mama land! No one wants you here!_

 _Face it, slut, no one wants you. WE clearly don't want you, your parents didn't even want you, and your boyfriend's just dating you to please his mommy and daddy._

She knows better to let the voices get to her, but the cold sensation of the blade against her already scarred skin is so enticing.

 _Swish-_

* * *

Brittany was happily skipping through classes when she suddenly had to pee. She was wondering a solution to her ever-overweight-cat Lord Tubbington's smoking problem and now she was distracted. She stopped by the closest bathroom and entered, muttering _gotta pee, gotta pee!_ She left the stalls and suddenly noticed the cherry red liquid on the floor. Or is it burgundy? She still couldn't tell the difference between the two, no matter how much Santana nagged her about it. Thinking that it was a cherry slushie pudding(it seemed very appealing, and she couldn't get her dessert because she used the last of the week's allowance for new suede boots on Tuesday), she dipped her ring finger and brought it to her tongue. Ignoring Santana's scolding to not eat things off the floor, especially _bathroom floors_ , she stuck it to her mouth.

Ugh, copper! Definitely not a desert. Dismissing the offensive taste of the once potential dessert, she resumed to happily skipping back to the choir room for glee, not noticing the red stained on her knees and elbows.

* * *

Kurt was absentmindedly tapping his feet to the rhythm that Puck was playing on his guitar, mildly remembering the fact that Tina had in fact, had not shown up at lunch to give him her advice on whether he should wear a cobalt blue or peach pink scarf like she promised today morning by text.

That was when Brittany skipped into the room.

Puck plucked the finishing chord of the song just as Santana shrieked out.

"What, what?"

"Brit, what happened to you?"

"Is that _blood_?"

Santana was the first to reach Brittany.

Brittany, for her part, looked extremely confused.

"What?"

"Brittany, is this blood on you?" Mr. Schue questioned, concern lacing his voice.

"Is it? I don't know, I just wanted some dessert? I'm sorry I ate it off the bathroom floor, though. It just wasn't worth it." Brittany shrugged. Most of the people in the room cringed in disgust.

"So if it's not her blood…." No one needed to hear the rest of Finn's unvoiced sentence to know what he implied.

"Brittany, which bathroom was it?"

"Just the one across from here."

The boys were first to reach the girls' bathroom but were hesitant to actually enter. Santana was next. She swung the door open and collective gasps were heard from everyone who could witness the scene from their respective views. The usually moisturized floor of the bathroom was now stained with light red liquid, the blood having been diluted by the water present on the floor.

Sam was first to act.

"We have to break down the stall." With a loud bang, he started kicking on the door, only to be blocked by Mike.

"Dude! Someone inside will get hurt! We need to unlock it from the inside." All eyes traveled to Santana, the flexible and short enough cheerio to climb up and through the next stall. Santana was already on her feet, stepping on the porcelain bowl and climbing up the stalls.

"Can you see? Who is it?" Kurt demanded, only to be hushed by the girls.

A gasp escaped Santana's lips.

"Santana, open the damn door!" Mr. Schue shouted, unlike his usual, composed self.

 _Click-_

"Mike, just-" Tina's limp body made Mike's heart drop to his stomach. _Oh, Tina._

"Dude, you gotta move. She can't afford you standing here like an idiot right now." Puck slapped his back, making his sense come back to him. He rushed to her sides.

He couldn't make much of her with her jet black-occasionally-blonde curtain masking her and since she was leaning on Santana. She seemed fine, at least she wasn't dying, a bit hazy, but, not dying. Yet.

But the real nightmare started when Sam and Finn moved closer to her to take her to the nurses.

"No, NO! Don't, don't _touch_ me! No, DON'T! J-just leave me alone, _please_." She jerked out from her drowsy stance and started to sob uncontrollably, desperately trying to escape the boys' grip.

 _What in the HELL happened?_

Quinn and Mercedes were fast to react. They rushed to her sides, supporting her, and shooting a _just-don't-try-to-do-anything-stupid_ look to the boys. Mike rushed forward to her aid, as well.

"Babe, babe. Tina. Look at me. It's me, sweetie, Mike. I won't hurt you. Just please, _look at me babe_." Tina still flinched at the male voice but seemed to recognize his voice and didn't thrash around like she had with the others.

"You're fine. You're fine and I'm not going to let anyone hurt you, okay? I promise. Not _anymore_." _Just like you promised to her a fortnight ago._ Guilt clenched his heart. He slowly approached her and took his time on touching her body and lifting her up, not wanting her to be all surprised and start panicking again. He sprinted off to the choir room and settled her down on the chair. Others were quick to follow. Mike slowly gathered her hair and pushed them back to her shoulders.

Mr. Schue sat on the chair left to Tina, but she flinched away from him and tears started rimming her eyes that Santana quickly changed seats with Mr. Schue. Mercedes sat to her right.

"Hey, gurl. Can you tell us what happened? Do you need to go to the hospital?" Mike was looking for the source of her now sticky and halfway clotted blood trailing down her hairline as she slightly shook her head sideways in a negative response. Tina visibly flinched when his hand touched a certain spot clotted with an excessive amount of blood. Someone handed him a cotton drenched in alcohol and Mike started dabbing at it carefully. A tiny gash appeared when he successfully cleaned her wound.

"That will probably need some stitches." Rachel offered.

"Can someone bring the school nurse or call an ambulance?" Mr. Schue questioned, and Kurt took to his heels without further questioning.

"Someone call her parents." Mr. Schue again instructed, and Mike absentmindedly handed Quinn his phone, informing her that the necessary number is under Mrs. Cohen-Chang.

"They will answer, but they both are out of the country. She was staying at our house." He warned. Quinn only nodded.

"Hey, Tina, we need to get you to the hospital, alright? You're still a bit bleeding, babe." That's when he notices it. The slices.

The red lines prickling with small dots of blood laughed at his face as he carefully took her arms into his hands and brought it up. Tina whimpered and tried to pry her arm away, but Mike only gripped it harder. Yet another round of collective gasps escaped everyone's throats.

"Tina?" Mike's voice was strained, and his question only made Tina sob.

"I couldn't help it. I tried, but Mike, when he just touched me, I couldn't-. I just felt dirty, and wrong, and the voices in my head were just too loud to ignore and-, God I messed it up all again, didn't I." Her sobbing wrenched his heart, but one word caught his ears above all. A hot lump of fury in his throat made it harder for him to breathe.

"He _touched_ you?" Santana asked with fury and anger lacing her voice.

" _Who_ touched you, Tina?" Mike was sure his voice was straining with all the fury he was feeling right now, and his petty attempt of concealing it didn't really work, because he was quite sure that everyone could detect it. Quinn, just having come off the phone, put her hand on his shoulders to offer comfort. It didn't do much of an effect.

"I… I don't want to put you in trouble, Mike. I don't want you hurt." Tina's concern for him was truly heartbreaking, but it seemed that he couldn't possibly care less about him getting in trouble when all he cared about was bringing pain to her oppressor.

"Damn it, Tina! _Who was it?_ '" Mike immediately regretted his choice of words as Tina cringed away under his touch. But she firmly shut her lips and refused to tell him anything. He could literally feel others sharing a look behind his back.

"Tina, girl, you gotta tell us. We should make sure this doesn't happen to other people, too." Santana softly whispered. Tina only slightly nodded but still failed to voice the words.

"Guys, give her a bit of a break. She might have a concussion and she needs to rest. You can all ask her later on." Mr. Schue scolded everyone and slightly nudged Mike's shoulders.

"Mike, give her some space." But he refused to leave her side. He just looked down to her arm, tears welling in his eyes.

"Mike, please don't cry. It isn't your fault. It's my fault-"

"Christina Si-Eun Cohen-Chang. Don't you ever tell me that it was your fault. It isn't, it's that fucking bastard." Mike pleaded with her. He ignored Brittany's wondering in the background _I thought she was Tina Cohen-Chang. Doesn't that make her middle name Cohen?_

"That number nine. Puck" Her words brought a confused _Huh? Me? I swear guys, I didn't even lay a finger on her-_ stutter out of Puck.

"Not you, _Puckerman_. Those Hockey teams." Quinn clarified.

Mike couldn't say anything.

The fury made it impossible for him to see anything but red.

" _I'm going to KILL him!_ " Mike jumped up, only to be tugged back by Tina.

" _No, Mike_ , please don't leave me." Her broken voice and those vulnerable eyes settled him down back to his knees in front of her. Just barely.

However, nobody was able to stop Santana and Puck from letting out a strangled battle cry and bursting out of the choir room.

A distinct _I'm gonna fucking KILL him! Get in line, Puckerman. I'm gonna go all Lima Heights on that Motherfucker first and you will NOT stop me-_ was heard from the otherwise quiet hallways.

"Finn, Sam, go and damage contr-" But they were already on their way.

To stop them or to aid them, heaven knew.

 _Dude, wait up- You can't afford another trip to the juvie again!_

"Uh, why are Puck and Santana running out in the halls looking like they're actually going to _murder_ someone?" Kurt entered the choir room, confusion egged on his facial expression.

"Tina told them who did it." Kurt's eyes went wide but didn't voice his question as Blaine silently shook his head sideways.

"Uh, anyway, I brought some first aid kit. The nurse isn't there. I didn't call the ambulance, though. Did anyone do that yet?"

Mike snatched the kit from Kurt's offering hands and took out some more cotton balls and drenched them in alcohol and started working on her arm.

Tina looked up to his eyes and her somewhat lost eyes broke something inside of him.

"I'm sorry, Mike. I should have told you that he was trying to-"

"…It's not the first time?" Tina shuddered at his cold tone.

"Michael!"

"Junior!" Two voices spared Tina from actually responding to Mike.

"I called them too, in case you need some kind of adult supervisors." Quinn chirped in, and Mike gratefully nodded towards her.

"Oh, Tina, honey, are you okay?" Julia rushed to Tina's side, occupying the seat that had just been vacated by Santana. Julia immediately took out her medical equipment and started checking her eyeballs for any internal brain damages.

"Junior, what in the HELL happened?" Mike never heard his father swear in his whole life, not even when he was horribly drunk. Mike stood up and turned to his father and Rachel stepped in and started bandaging her arm and head wounds. He simply ignored the small gasp that his mother let out at the sight of her arms.

"I don't know yet, father. She was in the bathroom like this. I think someone tried to, you know.." The word _assault_ was swallowed and never made it out of his mouth, but his father seemed to understand.

"We'll need to take her to the hospital immediately." His mother interrupted.

"She is not seriously damaged, but I do suspect a slight concussion and she needs better medical attention than some alcohol-drenched cotton balls and bandages. No offense, you kids." Everyone just shook their heads in negative.

"I will take care of things from here then, Julia. Take her to the hospital. Use the car." Michael Sr. tossed his wife his keys and she swiftly caught them.

"Mike?" Tina's tiny voice brought him to her attention immediately. He crouched on his knees, staring at her beautiful, yet traumatized brown eyes.

"Don't leave me?" Her soft voice once again managed to shatter his heart into innumerable pieces.

"Never in million years, Tina." She seemed satisfied with his response and slowly closed her eyes. He turned to his mother in concern, but she slightly smiled at him, even though it was a bit forced and concern laced her eyes.

"Carry her to the car, Junior. I will make sure that bastard gets everything he deserves. He won't possibly know what he got himself into." His father reassured him. That was all he needed to hear.

He picked her up from the uncomfortable chairs and started out to the parking lot.

On the way out, they actually saw Santana going all Lima Heights on the boy, _Tyler Williams_ he remembered bitterly, and shared a knowing smirk with Sam.

 _Damage control, my ass. Rather ask a group of elephants in must._


End file.
